


Words

by Liebermintz



Category: Code Lyoko, Code Lyoko Evolution
Genre: F/M, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Other, Partner Betrayal, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Smoking, mean Aelita
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 17:30:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5172965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Liebermintz/pseuds/Liebermintz
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Let's just say Aelita's life, from the week before their final attack on XANA, isn't roses. Sometimes funny, sometimes melodramatic. All self-indulgent.</p><p>Updates when I feel like it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Words

**Author's Note:**

> So I made the boneheaded decision to write a Code: Lyoko sequel spec script. I've been flirting around with Aelita being a bit of a drug abuser - who'd want to live with all of those seemingly endless XANA attacks and near-death experiences? - so I figured I might as well write how she got that way.
> 
> I just wanted to write a psychological dramedy with the most interesting character from French Foreheads Anime, not an "Aelita's poor" story I've read a thousand times over on Fanfiction.net. You can still have the characters live decently and have psychological problems up the wazoo.

_Le temps detruit tous_.

 

“Time destroys everything.”

 

I remember the first time I saw that phrase. It was about a week before everything went sour – the calm before the storm, to metaphorically put it. Odd had extended Jeremy and me an invite to the Cinematheque as part of their weekly revival screening program. The week we went, they were showing _Irreversible_. I heard about it, mostly in hushed whispers amongst Odd’s cinephile club (the Knights of Spielberg) and graduating-class students who just gotten the okay to watch films rated 16 and 18. From what I could gather, this film appeared **intense** – not only was there enough violence to fill several blockbusters fifteen times over, there was a nine-minute rape scene that got to the root of how bad it all is. I vowed to join the club just to get my hands on a copy. And I did – quite easy, actually. Paid club dues, watched a few movies, made a few friends, and got close to that guy who was supposed to be, according to my then-cover story, my cousin from near Normandy. Alas, I couldn’t – 16 years old. Yeah, I could watch the latest Almodóvar, but not _Irreversible_.

 

At that point, I spent summers at both Odd’s and Jeremy’s places – talk about polar opposites – so I damn well knew that I could’ve just torrented the film off-campus. Robert – I swear the guy doesn’t look like a performance artist, much less one half of the French answer to the Kipper Kids – even had a copy for reference (his substantial, to say the least, collection is what sparked Odd’s interest in film), but I couldn’t borrow it much less Jim checking through my belongings and marking it contraband. Would he mark it contraband? And besides, I want to contribute to this guy’s future work – what if he makes the next Great Film of All-Time and everybody asks, “How’d you do it?” Where’s my frame of reference? Sure, I saw _Carne_ at a KoS meeting, but I needed more. I needed more violence. I needed more drugstore pessimism. I needed something to quench my teenage thirst. I needed something that said, “At least you’re not the unluckiest person on the face of the Earth.”

 

Odd managed to do it. I don’t know how in the hell he could convince the box office attendant to sell tickets to an 18 film to kids, but he did it. Maybe it was his friend who worked there. Maybe the box office guy was a member of the club and knew I wanted to see _Irreversible_. Either way, I got tickets. This was going to be something. I didn’t know if I’d have nightmares or if I would brush it off as okay or if it would turn me away from cinema – all I knew was that it was a film I heard about and wanted to see just to get into that inner circle.

 

The screening was on a Friday – Jeremy had gotten off of work at the local computer repair shop (where he worked as part of a work-study program). He was more than excited when we met outside the Ishiyama townhouse. I had gone through two cigarettes – a little too nervous even by my now-fucked-up standards – and I smelled like I just slept in a humidor for three days. No matter what I did – I showered, perfumed, washed my clothes, and walked in the park – I couldn’t get the stench off. Not that it mattered – they all knew the stress of having to devote almost every single day of your life to fighting XANA was getting to me. And besides, I waited until I turned 16 to buy my beloved cancer sticks. Not that the school mattered. Students 16 and older usually took up the habit – Odd and Jeremy didn’t. Who cared if it killed us young?

 

Set up: me sitting on Yumi’s stoop, taking a drag on a Lucky. Jeremy walked up, somewhat worn – he was starting to get a bit taller (and with some muscle), his blond hair fading into a brown – and still in his computer repair shop outfit (not that it was much – it consisted of little more than a button-up shirt TV repairmen usually wear with his usual khaki pants and trendy hipster sneakers).

 

I waved hello. “You ready for this?”

 

Jeremy couldn’t hold in his excitement. I could tell his excitement was not about the film – hell, he couldn’t give a shit even if he tried. He somewhat spazzed out – I was a little confused.

 

Eventually, he blurted out, “I think I might be working for the RG soon!”

 

I was surprised – it’s always been one of Jeremy’s goals: to work for the government. I knew he’d be working as an intern – we were due to graduate in a few months, so we all were trying to find post-secondary education. I was in line to go to a nice art school for music production – I knew my way around a mixer. Odd did dual enrollment at the same college I was going to – my plan was to room with him. But Jeremy – he was in line to earn the most money. And he was, arguably, the most skilled – of course things were looking up.

 

I had to hug the bastard. That news was good, no matter what his character was.

* * *

 Odd rendezvoused with us around 5:30. He still had some camera equipment on him – I think he was camera operator on a commercial for Givenchy, having done some pick-ups. You wouldn’t know it – it’s just your normal “sexpots in the city, carrying luxury goods” commercial. But hey, he was €300 richer. I had, I think, €200 to my name – freelance production work was pretty dry during this time. Enough for an outing.

 

We all went to a restaurant that was right across the street from the Cinematheque – the Soft Machine. It closed down a year or so ago, but pardon my French if they didn’t have the best fucking coffee in Paris. It reminded me of the Cajun coffee I had with my dad when we went to New Orleans on one of his business trips. Their food, on the other hand, wasn’t that hot. When I went to the movies with Odd – especially to one of those revival screenings at the Cinematheque – I mostly had coffee. I preferred the popcorn across the street than I did whatever constituted as “Canterburian cuisine” at a restaurant that did more to shame the legacy of the Canterbury sound.

 

We ordered some coffee and some Yorkshire puddings. Well, they claim they’re puddings, but they’re just greasy rolls. I spread some Marmite on mine – maybe a bit too much – and I had one. Thankfully, the coffee washed the taste away.

 

We sat at a booth, mostly talking about our lives and what’s been going on. Jeremy mentioned that Tyron’s Lyoko-related activities had slowed down to a crawl – I wasn’t relieved. What if he was planning to use my mom as leverage? She’s the gateway I have to the rest of the family! I can’t remember a single name besides Anthea and Waldo! Sometimes, I don’t remember my name – I actually gave my name as “Artificial Intelligence Maya Stones” at a contest during a street fair! That sure did wonders for my self-esteem. Especially when they called it out. Let’s just say that I might’ve had my first drink after that. At least my reputation’s gone up – instead of “pink Laura,” I’m now “female Odd.” I had my second drink after that.

 

I nodded my head and said, “Well, at least he’s not doing anything.” Good, he doesn’t know.

 

At this point, I notice Laura walking by. I’ve seen her – hell, I despised her very existence for the longest time – so it wasn’t a surprise she’d walk into this shitty Canterbury-themed English restaurant. What surprised me was that Laura went to our booth and sat next to Jeremy. Had Odd invited her without telling me? Figures – he’s tried to ask her out a couple of times. She’s always declined him. “Too dumb,” she calls him, “Dumb as a box of rocks.” You take that back, bitch, or I’ll Buñuel your eyeballs.

 

Laura greeted Jeremy and hugged him, much to my dismay. I knew they were close, but Jeremy was still my boyfriend. Well, kinda. We were sort of drifting apart. I was hanging out with Odd – just to get into that film club. It took time away from Jeremy. Not that I didn’t mind – until I realized that they were all weirdos and oddballs like me, I felt very out of place. To them, I was the naïve girl who suddenly became smart – and still acted like a total ditz.

 

Laura waved hello to me in her always-peppy voice, “Hey, Proxy-Pie! You going to the movies too?”

 

I sighed and responded, “Yeah, sure. Odd invited me. Did he invite you? Or does your dad have enough fuckin’ money to let you bypass the ratings system?” Yeah, looking back, I’m not entirely proud of myself.

 

Laura, surprisingly not wanting to throw me through a window, responded, “I don’t think so. Einstein invited me!” She leaned into my ear and added, “He thinks it’s a date movie.” So Odd hadn’t told Jeremy. I thought he’d realize that after seeing the trailer. Maybe he likes date movies were Vinz from _La Haine_ kills a gay dude with a fire extinguisher. He’d think _Boys Don’t Cry_ was romantic.

 

I had to chuckle – after all, it describes Jeremy so well – and it dawned on me that she and Jeremy were really close. Well, I really shouldn’t say “dawned on me” – I knew that they were flirting for the longest time ever since she forced her way into the gang – but more like “well, I’m getting dumped tonight.” The guy that, for all intents and purposes, freed me was going to dump me for somebody that was his age. Somebody that knew a thing or two about ‘90s cartoon shows. Sorry if my mind stopped after _Jem_.

 

Don’t look at me like that. Jerrica kicked serious ass.

 

This perfectly put me in the mindset that I could watch the movie in. This long-term relationship suddenly breaking apart in front of me, along with my own doubts regarding future Lyoko activities, really made me think that time is a bitch. Time destroys everything I took for granted. Time’s gonna make me really regret going to Jeremy’s house. Time’s gonna make me regret keeping that photo booth strip. Time’s gonna make me regret eating those Yorkshire puddings. Speaking of puddings…

 

I heaved, covered my mouth, and ran to the bathroom as quick as possible. On my way, I could hear Laura say, “Why do we go here again?”

* * *

 

There I was, sitting in front of a movie screen, flickering violent image after violent image after gratuitous shots of boobs under some crazy artistic pretense, and I noticed Jeremy and Laura leaving. Having the knowledge that I have now, I should’ve stayed in my seat, but I followed them to the concession stand and saw them kissing. Again, it was so obvious from the start, but back then I had something for Jeremy. He was taking it away. I was deprived of it. With that single kiss I felt lied to – is my entire existence a mere prelude to him unceremoniously dumping me for the second-smartest student at the secondary academy? If so, then why did he say that he loved me? Several times? Yeah, I was hurt. A lot.

 

I walked to the both of them, pushed Jeremy to the ground, and kicked him. Seemed reasonable. That showed him.

 

Jeremy stood back up and asked, “What the hell was that for?”

 

“So you’re gonna do me like that, huh?” I drilled him, “You’re gonna throw me out and leave me to rot while you hang out with HER?”

 

Laura gave me a patient-yet-upset glance and responded, “You’re act immature about this, Moony.”

 

I turned to her, grasped her by the cheeks, and retorted, “Immature?! You didn’t give me any heads-up about the whole fuckin’ thing!”

 

“I did,” Jeremy stated, “Several times.”

 

“Where?” I asked him.

 

“Facebook.” Yeah, I should check it a lot more.

 

I sunk. This wasn’t going to end well. I knew that from the kiss, it was a foregone conclusion, so I figured I might as well end my last gasp and try to move on. I let them be.

 

As I walked back into the auditorium, I heard Laura say to Jeremy, “I coulda sworn she was the one who return-trip-erased me.”

 

The opportunity was given to me and I took it. I made a mad dash towards Laura.

* * *

 

Outside the theater, Odd and I sat. He managed to talk the police down from arresting me into giving me a warning. Jeremy and Laura were nowhere to be seen. I figured that I might as well just borrow Robert’s DVD the next time I’m in Normandy, but my mind wasn’t on missing half the film – I pounced her right as Monica Belluci’s character walked inside that metro tunnel – but on Jeremy. How could he lie to me? How could he take me for somebody that almost destroyed us? What did he see in Laura?

 

Odd said to me, “I think you’re a little too reactive at times.”

 

I responded, my voice nasally from the stint placed on my broken nose, “If your biggest enemy told your ex that you were the one who made the vote to erase her mind, would you tackle her in the lobby?”

 

Odd shrugged, took a breath, and responded, “Maybe it’s time you took a break from the whole Jeremy thing. You could hang with me at my place off-campus.”

 

I took a drag.


End file.
